Page 117 of Prove You Wrong

‘Like fuck I did.’ He jerks his head back.

‘Yep.’ She nods slowly. ‘You were nine. I made Mum and Dad swear, too.’

‘You’re not holding me to that.’ His voice squeaks with indignation.

‘Well, I — ’ Josie counters.

‘I mean, you literally can’t,’ he interrupts. ‘I’m gonna get a motorbike instead of a new car. When the insurance eventually pays out.’

‘What?’ Josie and I both shriek. Our voices bouncing off the low car roof and jangling inside the vehicle.

‘If I avoid every vehicle because I might have an accident in it, there’ll be nothing left. I’ll have to walk everywhere. I tripped over some shoes earlier. Gonna ban those too?’

‘The pair of you are going to finish me off,’ Josie mumbles.

Concentrating on traffic and the road, she falls silent and Jamie and I follow suit. After a couple of miles, we pull up outside Josie’s childhood home, a detached mid-century property surrounded by privet hedges and a gravel drive.

‘OK, piss off you little shit.’ Josie smirks fondly at her brother.

‘You’re the best, sis.’ He grins, unclipping his belt. ‘Same time tomorrow?’

Jamie stretches a long leg out of his open door, but before he gets out, Josie adds, ‘Get lessons.’

He turns back, brow puckered.

‘Both of you,’ Josie continues. ‘Just get lessons. Life’s too short to hide from things. But don’t forget it’s too fucking short to die young as well.’

Her brother double taps the roof before she pulls away.

‘What are your plans for the rest of the day?’ Josie asks as she takes me back to my house.

‘I need to go shopping.’ We stop at a red light and wait.

‘Industrial size bottle of lube for all that anal?’ Josie catches my eye, hers glinting mischievously.

‘Something like that,’ I snigger, batting her arm.

***

The Wreck is really something to see in daylight. I take in the splendour of the forest setting and the activity centre nestled into the wilderness. With the winter sun falling through the canopy, it looks very different. On the ground, various cabins blend into the leafy backdrop, with trails enticing you off into the woods. Above, the platforms I’d climbed with Nate are dotted amongst the trees with ropes and cables weaving through the canopy.

Nate’s bike is in the carpark, as is the muddy SUV. I feel a pang of apprehension mixed with relief now I’ve found him. Feeling ashamed — and not really knowing how to approach him — I’d decided to answer next time he called. But then, suddenly, my phone stopped ringing. Worried I’d missed my chance, I decided to track him down in person. I was afraid of him screening my call or telling me to fuck off. Finding his apartment abandoned and hearing that Enzo at The Bull hadn’t seen him, I drove to The Wreck.

Holding the brown paper parcel to my chest like a security blanket, I trudge across the dirt to the hut marked Base Camp. This was the cabin we got the kit from when we came here before.

Behind the desk is a broad shouldered brick wall of a guy. Blond haired, he’s attractive in a menacing kind of way. I note a scar tracks down one side of his face and wonder if this might be Chunk.

‘Hi. Is Nate around?’

He looks up, startled, and then scans cold, moss-green eyes over me.

‘Is he expecting you?’ His voice is deep and rumbly.

‘No.’ I take half a step back. ‘If it’s a bad time I can come back, but I’d appreciate the chance to speak with him. It’s important.’ The package crinkles as I squeeze it tighter. The gaze of this gatekeeper is quite terrifying.

He stands, pulling a walkie-talkie from his belt. ‘Nate. Your presence is requested at Base Camp, over.’

Static sounds over the waves before a distorted voice crackles through. ‘Dude, I’m fine. It’s too soon for more cake, anyway. I’ll be over later.’ The guy who might be Chunk catches my eye and there’s a flicker of mirth before he looks away.

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